“Last-minute change of plans. I just finished up. But I don’t want to interrupt.”
“Please, join us for a glass of wine,” said Graham.
When he turned and focused on Pine his features froze.
“Are you okay?” asked Pine.
His face changed color. “I’m…I’m sorry,” he said, his grin weak and forced. “For a minute there—”
“—you thought it was Julia,” Graham finished for him, her exuberant expression fading quickly as she said this.
Lineberry slowly sat down next to Pine and nodded, his gaze averted from her. “Yes,” he said quietly. His face was pale and his voice was husky.
“I’m sorry if it gave you a nasty turn,” said Pine.
He lifted his gaze to hers. “No, quite the contrary, it was an overwhelmingly positive feeling.” His expression turned embarrassed by this admission and he looked at Graham. “Did you mention a glass of wine, Lauren?”
The waiter must have overheard this because he hurried over and poured one out for him.
“Thank you, William,” said Lineberry to the waiter.
As the man walked away Pine said, “I take it you’re a regular here?”
Lineberry nodded, but Graham added, “Jack bankrolled this place. Otherwise, it would never have happened.”
“Good food and wine should not be the exclusive property of big cities,” noted Lineberry. He glanced at Pine. “You look quite lovely tonight, Lee. I…” He looked away.
“You didn’t realize I had any potential beyond pants, attitude, and a gun?” But Pine grinned as she said this, softening the bluntness of her words.
He smiled warmly. “Something like that.”
Graham said, “She was giving me some professional information for the novel I’m writing.”
“Wonderful. That’s very considerate of you, Lee,” said Lineberry.
Pine said, “Just keep in mind that if you’re writing a historical detective novel, DNA and luminol and all the rest won’t be appropriate subjects.”
“I know. But I plan on writing a second novel set in current times, too, so there’s that.” Graham rose from the table. “Just going to hit the little girls’ room.”
Pine thought that Graham maybe wanted to freshen up her makeup and hair now that Lineberry was here. But this gave her an opportunity with the gossipy Graham out of the picture for the moment.
“While I have you here, Jack, I’d like to ask you some follow-up questions, if that’s okay,” said Pine.
He looked startled. “Follow-up questions?”
“About my parents.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll tell you what I can.”
Pine inwardly frowned at his comment, not quite sure how to interpret it.
“Myron Pringle gave me a magazine showing my teenage mother to be a fashion model, walking the runway in London. And apparently back then her first name was Amanda and her last name was unknown.”
Lineberry just gazed at her dully. “Did you not know your mother’s maiden name?”
“Astonishingly not. I know it sounds crazy, but she never talked about her family. Not once. Neither did my father. I just assumed they had no family living.”
“Okay.”
“Did you know that about her? That she was a model?” asked Pine.
He sipped his wine and set it carefully down. “I recall your mother mentioning something like that once.”
“And you weren’t surprised?”
“That your mother was a model? No, of course not. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I…” He coughed, looked embarrassed, and stared into his wineglass.
“But to go from all that to Andersonville?”
“I can’t in all honesty tell you that I didn’t find that odd, because I did. But your parents never chose to explain their reasons for coming here and I was not going to pry. I mean, we all have things in our lives we’d rather not talk about.”
“You obviously cared for her,” said Pine.
Lineberry reached for his wine again, but then withdrew his hand. He cleared his throat and without looking at her said, “I cared for both your parents. What happened to them should not have happened. It troubled me back then and it still troubles me to this day.”
“You tried to find my mother?”
“I wanted to know that she was okay, yes.” He glanced at her. “I hope that the challenges you mentioned her having are not insurmountable.”
His features showed the strain that he was under in making the query.
“In all honesty, I don’t know.”
He nodded. “Life is quite strange, you know.”
“How so?” asked Pine.
“You have a vision, a predetermined idea of how things will work out. And then none of it does.”
“I think most people would take how your life has turned out a hundred times out of a hundred.”